


Seven Simple Words

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-09 03:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19880599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: "F.R.I.D.A.Y.," Tony said, waving a hand carelessly, "Peter and I are supposed to be newlyweds now. Make it so."





	Seven Simple Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [syrupwit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrupwit/gifts).



> This is only canon compliant partway through Infinity War and set long after it.
> 
> Redating for reveals. Sorry if you somehow managed to see this twice!
> 
> Personal notes: OPD: 7/20. AOD: 8/5.

It started with a mission. Peter and Tony were going in undercover as a married couple. It was originally supposed to be Rhodey and Carol, but the Air Force needed Rhodey for something, an alien planet needed Carol for something else, and it wasn't like they'd gotten further on their covers than "married couple on their honeymoon."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.," Tony said, waving a hand carelessly, "Peter and I are supposed to be newlyweds now. Make it so."

He meant that F.R.I.D.A.Y. needed to mock up the information for their fake identities. That's really all he meant. It should have been obvious that's all he meant.

They discovered their covers didn't hold only once they got to Bermuda. It was a whole thing. A thing with explosions, losing their carry-on luggage to the ensuing destruction, and having to suit up as superheroes before they made it out of the airport. On the plus side, they caught the bad guys in record time. It left them with plenty of time to see the sights, hit the beach, work on their tans, and enjoy a little downtime. Tony enjoyed watching Peter look for seashells and learn how to surf. The familiar turned sweetly new, transmuted into something shining and joyous with every moment of Peter's easy happiness.

Tony was so distracted by Peter—the beach—the perfectly innocent time spent with Peter at the beach—that he didn't think it through. In all fairness to Tony, it was pretty hard to think with Peter flashing all that nicely bronzing skin during their beach time. It was harder when Peter needed someone to apply sunscreen to his back. Skincare was important. Tony needed to do his part to encourage responsible sunbathing.

Tony didn't realize why their covers hadn't held until they made it home and he finally checked his phone. If all the missed messages hadn't alerted him, the news articles announcing Tony Stark's "honeymoon" with "new husband, Peter Parker" sure did.

His phone rang again. Tony checked the caller and answered it this time.

"Mr. Stark?" said Tony's accidental new husband. "Do you know why a small horde of paparazzi are camped out outside my building?"

"Yeah." Tony put down his luggage, wondering what headlines were about to go up following his making his way inside the building alone. "About that."

It was an accident. F.R.I.D.A.Y. was so good at not taking things literally these days, at figuring out what Tony really wanted. What Tony hadn't counted on was that F.R.I.D.A.Y. knew how much Tony wanted Peter.

"You might want to come over here instead," Tony said. Then, knowing no easy way to break the news, "How do you feel about the sanctity of marriage? Ballpark it for me: how upset would you be, on a scale of one to ten, if you found yourself unexpectedly married to a workaholic mess thirty years your senior?"

"Oh, boy," Peter said. The words were not spoken enthusiastically. "Gotta go. I think they spotted me."

Peter hung up.

"So that's a six, then," Tony said.

—

It was a simple problem with a simple solution.

"It's been a week. Three-quarters of the world has seen you eye-fuck that kid on camera. You can't get an annulment." Pepper did not sound nearly sympathetic enough for something that was not Tony's fault.

"We didn't even sign anything!" Tony said.

"Tony, I am looking at your digital signature right here. Do you really want to go on the record as having created an A.I. so advanced she can and will spoof legal documents on a whim?"

No, Tony did not. F.R.I.D.A.Y. was mostly secret for a reason.

"What if we say I was responsible for all of it?"

"I'm not helping you commit fraud to hide F.R.I.D.A.Y. committing fraud for you." Pepper sighed. "When I came by to congratulate you and drop off your wedding gift, this is not what I was expecting."

"You should know better by now," Tony said.

"I really should." Pepper patted Tony on the shoulder. "Good luck with your mess, but I'm your C.E.O., not your assistant. This sort of thing isn't my problem anymore."

Tony ran it down with F.R.I.D.A.Y., all the ways a marriage could be annulled. He hadn't been married before, and neither had Peter, so there were no undissolved marriages hanging around to conveniently gum things up for them. Peter wasn't underage and hadn't been for a couple years. It would be weird to wish he was younger just to make this easier on Tony. Also, probably there'd be a whole other scandal were that the case. There was no forced consent, and they were both capable of giving consent at the time. All that was left was fraud.

"Can A.I.s go to prison?" Tony asked F.R.I.D.A.Y.

"I believe the law currently favors your taking responsibility for my actions, boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y. was unperturbed. "I don't think you'd look good in orange."

"I'd look great in orange," Tony said.

"Either way, as you are responsible for my actions, you would be calling fraud on yourself. You consented to the marriage, because I consented for you after you told me to arrange things."

Tony tugged at his hair. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Then that's your fault for not being more specific."

Tony glared at the ceiling even though he _knew_ F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s sensors weren't up there. J.A.R.V.I.S.'s hadn't been, either. "Peter never agreed to this."

"He did." F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice was calm even as Tony felt his world tilt on its axis. "He signed the documents at the same time you did."

Tony did vaguely remember signing something as they were rushing out the door. There'd been a notary and a couple of people Tony had assumed were assistants. Tony had thought the document was an S.I. or Avengers thing. Even the weak, "Congratulations," Tony had waved off he'd assumed had been about a new S.I. merger or building or product release or something. They were always breaking ground somewhere, literally or metaphorically.

"Oh, shit," Tony said faintly. "I actually married Peter."

"You're welcome," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, because she never knew when to stop.

She probably got it from Tony, who said, "What kind of honeymoon doesn't include sex?"

—

Rhodey called. "I was hurt you didn't invite me to the wedding, but Pepper told me what happened."

"Still not my fault," Tony insisted.

"I want it on the record," Rhodey said like Tony hadn't spoken, "that I expect to be your best man for the official, public wedding, or at least to get an invite to the vow renewals."

"It's not a real marriage," Tony tried.

"Sure, it's not." Rhodey was the worst friend. "Anyway, you may want to send a car to pick up Peter. He's currently shouting at a reporter on national television."

—

All Peter's lessons as Spider-Man about not talking to the press had apparently flown right out the window the second someone insulted Tony to Peter's face. There was a mini clip currently going viral on Twitter in which Peter went on a rant about how actually, Tony would make a great husband, the best, really, and the reporter could take his stupid, biased opinion and shove it up his—

Well. It was cruder than Tony was used to from Peter, but oddly warming.

The optics were going to be terrible when Tony filed for divorce in a few hours.

—

Peter stormed in like he was carrying his own personal Mjolnir and was about to unleash lightning. His face was dark. His lips were pressed thin. It shouldn't have been attractive, but it really was.

"Hi, honey," Tony said from where he'd been waiting on the couch. "How was your day? Anything interesting happen?"

"They had no right to say those things about you," Peter said stubbornly, belligerently, like he was ready to fight Tony over this, too. He even sat aggressively, throwing himself onto the middle cushion despite all the rest of the couch open to him. "You're perfect."

A part of Tony was screaming, _He said you're perfect. Keep him forever._ That part was selfish and stupid and needed to shut the hell up. Tony said in his greatest act of self-sacrifice yet, "I want a divorce."

"Why not an annulment?" Peter asked. The non sequitur seemed to have jarred him out of his bad mood.

Tony ran down the same list he did with F.R.I.D.A.Y.

"Oh, that one's easy." Peter shifted. His knee pressed against Tony's. "Mind control."

"You're saying we should say you were mind controlled." Actually, it could work. Weirder had happened. To Peter, even.

"No, I'm saying we should say _you_ were mind controlled." Peter tilted his head. "Everyone already knows I'd marry you in a heartbeat."

"We could explain away the interview." Tony shifted slightly. It wasn't a retreat so much as a defensive regrouping. If Bermuda had proven anything, it was that Tony couldn't think when he was touching Peter. "Maybe we could say you're still under."

"A single glance at my social media presence would prove we were lying." Peter didn't look the least bit embarrassed as he said, "I've practically been writing PP+TS on Twitter since I was fourteen. Pretty sure even the laziest reporter is going to be able to suss out my massive, ongoing crush on you."

 _Your what_ , Tony wanted to ask. In retrospect, it was kind of obvious. Hero worship tended to fade on exposure to Tony at his worst—and Peter had seen Tony very much at his worst over the years—and didn't usually involve quite so much staring at the other person's ass. Equally flattering, though.

"We'll figure it out in the morning." Tony somehow kept his voice level, like nothing had been said that was a surprise. Peter certainly didn't seem to think it should be.

"Should I go home?" Peter asked.

"Nah. You can use the guest room." Tony felt dazed. He needed time for more than a minor regrouping. A night didn't feel like it would be enough. "You know where the spare toothbrushes are."

Peter stood. He stretched. A small sliver of his stomach peeked out where his shirt rode up. "Can I borrow P.J. bottoms?"

"Whatever you'd like," Tony promised. It was as easy as always to offer Peter the full run of the place. "You know where the towels are if you need a shower." Tony tried not to linger on the image of Peter naked in his bathroom. Had it been this terribly distracting a thought before, the times Peter had ended up staying over for one reason or another?

"Thanks." Peter brightened at the prospect. "Your water pressure is a billion times better than mine."

Tony swallowed down his usual offer to fix that—by buying Peter a new apartment if necessary. He also quashed the urge to say it wouldn't need fixing if Peter stayed forever instead of just the night. The words _massive, ongoing crush_ kept echoing in his head. The key word in there was crush. It wasn't serious, even if it apparently had spanned six years. It having started from the time Peter was fourteen was every indicator Tony needed that it couldn't be. It was a tiny bit of puppy love that had never really faded.

"Enjoy the hot water," Tony said insipidly. _Massive, ongoing crush._

"That'll be nice, too," Peter agreed. He wandered off.

Tony stayed on the couch and thought about how much trouble he was in.

—

In the morning, they were going to go to City Hall and get it taken care of. Just a little light fraud, no matter how Pepper or the law frowned on it, and they'd be home free. Tony could get back to not contemplating that crush and how it couldn't actually go anywhere.

They made it to City Hall. There was a villain who'd decided the second Iron Man stepped foot in the building was a great time to try to hold the visitors that day hostage. It didn't work out so well for the villain. It didn't work out so well for Tony, either, because City Hall was thereafter closed for the day—or until they could clear out the rubble from where the records used to be.

Someone got a picture of Peter with concrete dust in his hair, gazing up at Tony in his Iron Man armor. Peter looked very fond, almost adoring. Tony didn't know how he could have missed this, besides not wanting to know that there was a teenager lusting after him.

Peter wasn't a teenager anymore. It was a problem.

"We'll come back tomorrow?" Peter said.

"Let's give it a week." Tony wanted a lot more than a week. That was also a problem. "There's no rush."

—

And really, it would make sense for Peter to stay the night again. There were probably still paparazzi lurking outside his building. Tony's guest bedroom was safer, practically camera-free besides the sensors F.R.I.D.A.Y. could be instructed to turn off.

"I can't keep wearing the same clothes," Peter said.

"You can wear some of mine," Tony offered. Wait, no. That was a bad idea—if nothing else, then for Tony's blood pressure. Besides, he'd had a plan in place for this before he was ever aware Peter wearing Tony's clothes could be a problem for him. He should have mentioned this last night, but he'd been too distracted by Peter's crush and all the not thinking about it he'd been doing regarding Peter naked in Tony's shower, just a thin, flimsy door away. "Or, well, you can wear what I bought a while back for guest use only. Nothing fancy, just jeans and t-shirts, but I think there are new ones somewhere around here in your size. Or—not new, but never worn. They were laundered a few times to get the chemicals out and soften them up a bit. They'd be in the guestroom if you haven't found and used them yet."

Peter looked fond now, too. "Spare clothes are not like spare tooth brushes. You don't have to keep them in stock in case of sleepovers."

"I think you'll find I do, because otherwise you wouldn't have fresh clothes in the morning because you didn't pack an overnight bag this time."

"Or I could go back to my apartment," Peter said. Tony didn't like that idea so much. "I promise if there are any more reporters, I'll ignore them this time, no matter what they shout at me."

"If you're sure," Tony said.

"I'm positive," Peter said. He looked confident, comfortable, determined.

Tony's reasons for wanting to keep Peter there were mostly selfish if Tony let himself examine them too deeply. Tony should want to get some distance, but all he wanted to do was hold on. "Then I'll drive you."

It wasn't just about Tony, after all. Peter got a choice in this, too.

Peter played with his phone on the drive over, unable to look away from the train wreck that was the news coverage of their relationship. At least, Tony assumed it was morbid curiosity driving Peter and not because he was into being called a gold-digger—and that was on some of the nicer news sites. Tony had already set his legal team on the not so nice ones. Apparently not enough of them, because partway there, Peter suddenly winced, pale and shocky.

"How bad is it?" Tony asked.

Peter shook his head. "It's just speculation in the comments."

"What sort of speculation?" Tony asked, keeping his voice light and easy.

"Someone dug up the intern cover," Peter said.

"Hey, not a cover. You completed the science programs for that certificate fair and square." Though yeah, Tony could see where this was going.

"They also noticed that that was around when I got the new suit as Spider-Man," Peter continued.

Oh. Not the particular destination Tony thought they were going to arrive at. "Someone thinks that just because you did a Stark internship when you were in high school that you're _Spider-Man_? How does that make any sense?"

"They think there had to be some reason you'd want to marry me." Peter continued staring at the screen, thumb scrolling down.

"Why not because you're handsome, brilliant, and one of the best people I know?" There, that brought back a little color into Peter's face. Peter's smile was slight, but there.

"It's just speculation," Peter repeated. He put the phone away.

"If you change your mind and want company tonight—" Tony offered.

"No offense, Mr. Stark, but I'll probably call Ned." It was a surprisingly gentle rejection. "It's the summer, and we don't get to see each other that often. He's thinking about moving to California when he's done with school. Plus, well, with the fake marriage thing—"

"I get it." Tony would hold up his hands in surrender, but they were needed on the wheel. Sure, the autopilot would kick on if Tony started driving erratically, but better to focus on the road. "Probably more believable for the annulment if it's obvious you're not moving in with me."

"Right." Peter leaned his head against the window. His smile was gone again. "Don't want to mess that up."

"If for whatever reason that doesn't work out, we can always get a divorce," Tony tried to reassure him.

From the corner of his eye, Tony saw Peter close both of his. "Good to know we've got a back-up plan."

"You know me. Always got a plan B."

"And C, D, and all the way through Z."

"You know me so well." Tony rubbed his thumb against the leather covering the wheel. "Are you sure we're not really married?"

"Really being married is kind of the problem," Peter said.

—

Tony dropped Peter off. There wasn't a small mob waiting for him this time.

"I may not be your first call, but if you need to, you _can_ call me," Tony said before Peter opened the door.

"I know," Peter said. He got out of the car. He went into the building.

Tony went home. Peter didn't call.

—

Peter may have been on summer break, but Tony was done with his vacation in the form of an Avengers mission. He got back to work. It was a nice distraction from all the things he was busy not thinking about.

Tony tapped Happy to start driving him again, because time spent alone in the car was better spent doing design work, and just because the cars could drive themselves didn't mean the public was all that enthused yet. Tony was working on it. One would think one's competitors' general incompetence would be good for market share, but when it came to one little leaked video showing a car accelerating into a crash, boom, it was right back to square one for everyone. Tony missed the days when he didn't have to worry about optics—or maybe just plain hadn't cared about them. He hadn't cared about much of anything back then. It probably would have gotten him out of this conversation.

"So you and Peter," Happy said in a way he probably thought was casual, but which was anything but. Happy was not subtle. Usually it was one of his more endearing qualities.

"Nope," Tony said. He was not prepared for this conversation. He didn't want to have this conversation. This conversation could stop any moment now, please.

"You're my friend," Happy continued, because at some point he had stopped worrying about being fired and instead started worrying about Tony. It was one of many reasons Tony kept him around, but it was currently very, very inconvenient. "I want to be clear I'm not judging you. Judgment is not what's happening here."

"You're totally judging me," Tony said.

Happy went on ignoring him. "I care about you very much and I want you to be happy."

"You know what would make me happy? Not continuing this line of conversation and letting me get back to my work."

"But I also care about that kid, and—you _know_ what you're like, Tony."

Tony pressed his lips together. "Thanks."

"I'm just saying, you need to take it easy on this, take it slow. A weekend wedding was a little fast. It's no wonder he needs his space right now."

"Needs his—Hap, what do you think is happening here?"

"Hey, don't get mad at me. I know it's hard to wait, but he'll come around. Peter adores you. By the end of the week, he'll probably be all packed and ready to move in."

Tony was speechless. Actually speechless.

"Just give it a little time," Happy said confidently. "I'm sure it'll work itself out."

"We're getting an annulment," Tony said.

"Now you're just catastrophizing," Happy said. Tony shouldn't have encouraged him to go to therapy after the Mandarin attack. This is what came of encouraging decent mental health—having that jargon forced upon him, too.

"No, I mean we're getting an actual annulment. The whole thing was an Avengers related accident."

"How do you accidentally get married?" Happy asked.

"Very easily, it turns out. So yes, we're getting an annulment. Peter didn't actually mean to marry me." Tony's voice was light. There was no reason for Happy to look at him like that at the next stop light, pained and pitying. Tony turned back to his tablet. "Light's green."

Happy took an extra second to go, never mind the cars honking behind them. Quietly, he said, "He _does_ adore you."

"I know," Tony said, equally quiet. But just because the kid had a crush didn't mean he wanted to be married to Tony. People got crushes all the time. Most of them weren't meant to go anywhere. This one wasn't going to go anywhere.

Tony would tell himself that as many times as it took to convince himself.

—

The week passed surprisingly quickly. Monday rolled around, and Tony was, if not ready, at least prepared for picking Peter up and getting their marriage dissolved. Tony made it all the way to Peter's building.

Tony had an interview scheduled for after they were done. He'd lie his ass off about how it was an invention gone wrong, that he'd been working on a neural device for pairing with B.A.R.F. to help put the user in a relaxed state of mind to better address their past trauma. Of course he'd destroyed it when it turned out he'd created his own personal set of Cupid's arrows, and he was terribly sorry about confusing his poor intern, but no, he'd never wanted to get married to Peter before trying out the invention. He didn't have his own long-standing feelings for Peter he'd vowed never to act on. Marrying Peter for real wouldn't be a dream come true. He didn't want Peter to ditch his apartment and move into Tony's penthouse. He couldn't imagine waking up to Peter's cheerful, smiling face every morning. The entire thing was ridiculous. Perfectly ridiculous.

Tony had practiced saying the words several times. They paired best with a slightly incredulous expression, just a little bit of derision shading in at the very thought. "I'm not in love with Peter Parker."

It was easy to say. Tony had always been good at lying for the sake of self-preservation. "I'll build your weapons." "I can stop being Iron Man whenever I want." "I don't love you anymore." Most of the lies had eventually become obvious, but they'd worked when he'd needed them to. Tony just needed this lie to work long enough to get him through this. He could get through this.

"Boss, you've got an Avengers all alert," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

"Oh, thank God." Tony picked up Peter anyway. It was faster than sending another car or Peter taking the train.

—

There was a whole thing with a group of kids on a school trip getting caught in a lab accident, gaining superpowers, and freaking out. One of them was on fire. Another looked like they were made of ice now. A third was clinging to the ceiling like a second coming of Peter Parker. The little brats were everywhere, screaming and shouting and crying and generally failing to calm down.

Tony was so glad in that moment that Cap and the rest had gotten to come back after everything with Thanos in Wakanda, because it meant Tony could say, "Spidey, you've got ceiling kid. I've got the small Frosty." At least she was just chilling in a corner. "Not it for the rest."

One of the kids kept changing shape, the only thing staying the same about him the way he was channeling Edward Scissorhands. He seemed a little too into his new power, cackling as he drummed his fingers on a lab bench. His face looked all wrong. There were angles where there shouldn't be. He had too many teeth. Yeah, neither Peter nor Tony was going anywhere near that.

Wanda sighed. "I have the child who's on fire." Red mist poured from her fingertips. "If the fire tries to spread, I can keep it contained."

"Hey there," Tony said as he crouched next to his pick. "How's it going?"

"Ms. Bradley said I shouldn't talk with strangers," the little girl said.

"I'm not a stranger. I'm Iron Man." Tony held out his hand.

Little Miss Elsa didn't care for his logic, because she took his hand, yeah—and froze him in place.

"Motherf—"

"Iron Man said a bad word!" Great, not only did he get the one who wasn't a fan, but she was also a tattletale.

"No one likes a snitch," Tony said.

"Yeah, Katie," said Scissorhands, coming over to tap at the ice holding Tony in place. "No one likes a snitch."

"No one likes your face," Katie said.

Everyone else was busy wrangling other kids. There was no one to stop them as they got into a fight. At least Scissorhands only got Katie's hair instead of slicing up the rest of her. Tony cracked the ice and picked them both up by the scruff.

"Joke's on you," Katie screeched at Scissorhands. "I don't even _like_ long hair!"

On the ceiling, Peter was exchanging quiet words with the kid who was stuck there. Peter put his hand on the kid's shoulder and suddenly jolted like he'd been shocked. He did a header into the floor.

So yeah. Everything was going great. This was definitely preferable to going to City Hall.

—

It took a while to calm the kids down and get something figured out about what to do with them. Much too late to get that annulment. After it was over, Tony said, "I want pizza. Does anyone want pizza?"

"Pizza sounds great," said Steve, who looked maybe a bit frazzled after getting himself shocked three times in a row by ceiling kid and then five times before that by a mini Thor.

"I could eat," Peter said. He looked pretty good, having only been shocked the once. His hair was messy, but it always was when he'd been wearing the mask, and he made it work. It looked like it was on purpose, like it was meant to tempt a person into sinking their fingers into it and messing it up some more. Tony very carefully kept his hands to himself.

"Great. Peter and I are going to get pizza." Just because Tony was working on letting go of his resentment didn't mean he was going to share. "Have fun with whatever the rest of you decide."

Tony put a hand on Peter's shoulder and pulled him out the door.

Tony had been frozen solid several times. He'd lost a tuft of hair to Edward—Scissorhands's real name, if his teacher was to be believed—when he'd made the mistake of opening up the faceplate. He'd missed his interview, and everyone knew how much he hated standing up annoying strangers. Tony deserved this.

—

By the time they were done eating, City Hall was closed, or near enough. Better to put it off until tomorrow.

—

Two times was a coincidence. Three? Maybe the universe was trying to tell them something.

"Yeah, like let Captain America handle this one," Peter said. He hadn't budged from his position in front of the double doors leading in.

"Would you really let a teammate go into danger alone?" Tony asked, all earnestness. "What if something happened to him? How could you live with yourself?"

"It's a single superpowered kid going for an unauthorized swim," Peter said. "Pretty sure they don't need the whole team for this one."

Tony stood there on the sidewalk for a full minute, not meeting Peter's gaze. It was an easy lie. He'd rehearsed it time and again, both for the interview and whichever clerk they got. This marriage was not just an accident (the truth), but entirely unwanted (the lie). It was flattering that the kid had a crush, but Tony didn't want it to go anywhere (a bigger lie). He just wanted things to go back to how they were before he'd ever been aware it was a possibility (and also, his pants were on fire).

Seven simple words: "I'm not in love with Peter Parker."

"What would you say," Tony said slowly, "if I told you I didn't want an annulment?"

Peter frowned. "We can always get a divorce if you'd prefer that."

"What if I wanted to stay married?" Tony stared at the building, because he couldn't face Peter's expression face on. "What if—what if instead, you moved in with me? We went on a real honeymoon? Had an actual ceremony?" Tony closed his eyes, because even the glimpse of Peter in his peripheral vision was too much. Peter had gone pale, his eyes wide, and Tony—Tony needed to get this out. "I know you don't—I know it's just a crush right now, for you. Maybe it won't go anywhere. But. Six years is well past the average lifespan of one of those."

"Mr. Stark—"

"Tony," Tony said forcefully. "If you're going to turn me down, then I need you to use my actual name here."

That was—there were hands on his cheeks, gentle and warm. Peter's voice was warm, too, as he said, "Mr. Stark, I'm going to need something more from you than my own feelings if you want to stay married."

Tony opened his eyes. "If you want to stay married, I'd still prefer you call me Tony."

"Tony." Peter eyes were wide, but that looked an awful lot like hope lighting them from within. "Give me a reason."

"It hasn't been six years," Tony said thickly, heart in his throat, "and it's not a crush, but you have to know that I'm gone on you, kid."

Peter stroked Tony's cheek with one thumb. "When you say it's not a crush—"

"We're only in this mess because F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s aware that I'm terribly in love with you." Even as he spoke, Tony had a feeling like he was holding a breath, awaiting judgment. "I want every day of the rest of my life to have you in it. If you don't want to be married, if you have something against the institution, I'd happily settle for all the rest of it. Move in with me. Have weekly date nights. Wake up with me in the morning and discover firsthand that yes, my bed hair really is that bad. Give me the chance to prove I'd make a terrible, but loving husband."

"Normal people ask for a date first." That wasn't a no.

"Normal people don't accidentally get married to the love of their life." Tony leaned into Peter's hands. "Come on, Pete. I'd ask you to marry me, but we've already done that. Spend the rest of your life with me. Or at least give me long enough that we've got no choice but to go for a divorce."

"It's not just a crush," Peter said.

"Yes, we've established that. But I'll tell you as many times as you need me to: I'm all in."

Peter's smile was like the sun beating down on them, bright, hard to look at for too long. "How I feel. It's not just a crush."

"Oh." Tony wasn't sure what to do with that besides mentally pump his fists and hope for the best. "Is that a yes?"

"I'm not moving in with you yet," Peter said warningly, "but for the rest of it—yes. I'd like that, too."

—

Tony gave himself five minutes kissing Peter on the sidewalk before he said, "Yeah, we should—we should probably go."

"That's what I told you," Peter said.

Just for that, Tony had to kiss him again.

—

Building security came out. Apparently they were making people uncomfortable.

Fuck them. They were making _Peter_ uncomfortable, his cheeks bright red. He was still smiling, though, like he couldn't stop.

Peter cleared his throat. "Let's just go home, okay?"

 _Home._ Tony did another mental fist pump. At this rate, Peter was going to move in by the end of the week.

—

"What did I tell you?" Happy said a few weeks later when he and all of the Avengers had agreed to help Peter move. Happy grunted as he hefted another box. "Give it a little time, and I knew he'd come around."

"Less talking, more carrying," Tony said. He pointed with his free hand to the box Happy was carrying, which had a large X Tony had marked into the side along with whatever Peter had written there. "That box can go straight into the dumpster."

"Not unless you want me to move right back out it can't," Peter said, because at some point he'd snuck up behind them. "Love me, love my things."

"Peter, honey, I love you, but your college cookware is garbage." Tony tried to figure out if what he was carrying was books or more garbage. Peter had stopped labeling things when he realized Tony had his own corresponding labels he was attaching to things. Tony half-suspected his own failure to be sneaky about it was why Peter had insisted on doing this themselves instead of letting Tony hire professional movers or commandeer some interns. "If—on the very slim chance this doesn't work out—you need your own set sometime down the road, you'll have half my assets. You'll be able to buy better."

"I'm not taking half your assets, Tony." That was what Peter had said every time it came up. Tony even agreed.

"Yes, because this is definitely going to work out." Tony may not have said the words, "'Til death do we part," aloud, but he certainly planned to live them. Either Peter was going to get all their assets when Tony died of advanced old age or he was stuck sharing forever once Tony solved that pesky mortality problem. "Are you worried about the environmental impact? Because we can always donate them."

" _If_ I want to get rid of anything, I'll do it myself." Peter was adorable when he wasn't backing down. Tony kind of wanted to drag him into the bedroom and use his awful excuse for a bed one last time, give it a pleasant final sending off. At least Peter wasn't insisting on keeping most of his furniture. "Now, like you said: less talking, more carrying."

"You're very bossy," Tony said. "You should be nicer to your husband who's working so hard to make you happy."

Peter lifted another box. "Tony, if you work hard and don't throw my stuff away—" That second ask was unfair. Garbage belonged in the trash. "—I promise I'll be very nice to you. Later. At home. Assuming you actually _move my stuff_ , like you promised."

On the other hand, maybe it was better to let Peter come to accept on his own that most of his possessions could be thrown away. Tony turned to Happy with a grin. "You heard the kid. Chop, chop."

"Next time you ask for help moving, I'm telling you no," Happy said.

Steve stuck his head in the door. Despite Tony's frantic hand motions, he asked, "Is there anything else that needs to go in the dumpster?"

Tony looked at Peter's expression of indignant betrayal. "I'm sleeping on the couch tonight, huh?"

"You have a guest bed," Peter said. That wasn't encouraging.

"Relationships are about compromise," Tony tried. "Look at all this stuff I'm not throwing away."

"Relationships are about setting boundaries," Peter said. "You're fishing out the stuff you told everyone to throw away _yourself_ , or I'm moving in with May until I can find a new lease instead."

Tony sighed. "You're hot when you're mean to me, you know that?"

"Tony." Oh, no, not the puppy eyes.

"Fine. I love you. I'll love your stuff." Until such time as Peter acknowledged Tony's stuff was superior. Happy was right. Sometimes Peter needed time and space to figure these things out on his own.

"Thank you," Peter said.

Tony suited up, because jeans and a band shirt weren't protection enough. There wasn't enough money in the world to make Tony go dumpster diving, but for Peter? For Peter, Tony would do just about anything.

—

After a couple months, they had a commitment ceremony. Rhodey stood up as Tony's best man and Ned as Peter's. Happy played ring bearer. When it was over, Peter and Tony went on a second honeymoon. This one included time at the beach, too, but it also included all the sex they'd missed out on the first time around.

When they got back, they finally turned on their phones.

"Huh." Tony had a bunch of messages about a news article that had broken while they were in the air on the way home. Tony skimmed said article for himself. It was surprisingly well-sourced, if inherently flawed. "You, uh, you may want to skip reading _The Daily Bugle_ today, at least until Pepper's set the lawyers on it."

"Tony," Peter said in the sort of calm voice that preceded a storm. Oh, yeah, he'd definitely seen it, too. "Why does this say our marriage is fake to cover up my real identity as Spider-Man?"

**Author's Note:**

> After-credits:
> 
> A kid looked at his phone. He said, "Spider-Man, huh?"
> 
> He smiled. He shook his head.
> 
> "Miles!" a woman's voice called. "You better not be getting more footprints on that ceiling!"
> 
> He startled and dropped his phone. He winced as it hit his bed. "Of course not!"
> 
> Miles did a little flip and landed on his mattress.


End file.
